Lupine [Moon Child Series Book 2]

by Candy Nicks

  "Wise indeed. Are you ready to be a hero, Sol?"

  "Yes.” The boy nodded enthusiastically.

  "Then I am too. Call out for the others. Let them know where we are so we can go find that lightning tree."

  * * * *

  How could someone grow so much in the space of a few short hours? Neither Sol nor Finn looked the same. Naima searched Finn's face in the darkness, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. From within shone a new sense of purpose and independence. From now on, they'd walk forward as partners, not as a sighted person leading a blind man.

  "You found Sol,” she whispered. “I knew you would."

  Finn touched his lips to hers, keeping the kiss brief in deference to their audience. “Your brother rescued himself. He has heart. You should be proud,” he said turning to Ancel.

  "I am.” Ancel ruffled the boy's hair and carefully extracted him from his mother's embrace. Carine had threatened to suffocate Sol, refusing to let go even after she'd determined he was unhurt.

  "Finn and I—and the wolves—are going on a quest,” Sol told them, as if he were announcing a trip to the candy-store. “You can come along if you like. He needs me to find him a lightning tree so he can jump into the Great Fire and get the Soul Cleansing Stones. Then Mother will be happy again. We should be home by morning."

  "Well, if you put it like that,” Brynn said with a wink, “I think we'd like to tag along. Wouldn't we?” He turned to the group. “Complete the quest and be home by morning. How does that sound?"

  Sol's faith was the glue holding them together. Naima wanted to reach out and touch him for luck.

  "I need to rest,” Finn said. “Ancel, you know the mountains. How safe will it be to press on in the dark?"

  "Not advisable,” Ancel said shaking his head. “I've been to the top and the path is stony and steep. I don't want to lose anyone."

  "Then we'll wait until dawn. If I rest, I'll be able to see through my wolf's eyes.” He raised his chin in a hint of challenge at the mention of the wolf. Ancel looked into his amber eyes and remained impassive.

  "Travel in whatever form you wish. Finn, I'd like a word with you, if I may?” Ancel pointed to an outcrop of rocks.

  Naima let him go reluctantly, like a new mother handing over her first-born child. She strained to catch the drift of conversation as they moved away, terrified that Finn would lose his footing and tumble from the ledge. Brynn hunkered down and opened his back-pack.

  "Don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving. Naima, he got this far without you. Stop worrying."

  "How can I not?” she said turning away. “He told Sol he's going to jump into a fire."

  "He also told him we'd be home by morning. Here, eat something. Carine, Sol, you too."

  Sol was visibly wilting after the initial excitement of the reunion. They didn't know what had transpired between him and Finn's father and possibly never would. He sat on a rock, shoulders slumped, unprotesting when his mother slid an arm about his back and kissed the top of his head. Carine sang to him, a soft lilt that hardly disturbed the quiet night air. Sol sighed and half-closed his eyes.

  Finn returned with Ancel flanking him. He held out his hand and when Naima took it, pulled her upright.

  "Ancel,” he said. “Have a talk with your son. I think he's in sore need of fatherly advice. Naima and I will be gone for a while. Wait for us here."

  She followed quickly, cheeks ablaze, eyes down. Brynn flashed a victory sign and winked. Carine gave a sympathetic nod. Ancel crouched beside his son, a mixture of pride and concern clouding his features. It couldn't be easy being an Eagle warrior and a parent.

  When Naima stumbled, farther along the winding path, Finn grasped her waist and steered her towards the shelter of a clump of thorn bushes clinging to the ledge.

  She followed him, only partly aware of her movements. They were together and, for now, safe. Nothing registered beyond the insistent tug of his hand in hers and the sound of their combined breathing as they climbed the steep path. When they stopped she realised she'd let him take her with no thought for his handicap. His amber eyes caught the moonlight and reflected it back at her. Wolf and man in perfect harmony.

  "Finn,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke the soft rasp of his stubbled jaw. “Oh Finn...” Words failed her and, she realised, were not required. He placed a finger over her lips to silence her. Touched his mouth to the same place. A light kiss to re-familiarise themselves. A deeper one, mouths melding, tongues joining in a promise of a future. If not in this world, perhaps in the next. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating them as they embraced. Finn smiled against her lips.

  "Sol says we need to find a lightning tree. I think we're about to get one."

  "It's a dry storm. They're just usually all show.” Naima tipped back her head and regarded the night sky, alive with nearby planets and faraway stars. “Have you ever wanted to travel off-world? Visit all those places up there?"

  "I think man should learn to love his own world first. You can run away from life, but it will inevitably follow you. Kiss me one more time."

  The kiss heated up. The slow burn rapidly turned into an inferno. “They'll hear us,” she said, breathless with need. The protest was weak and she offered no resistance when he pulled her down and onto his lap. They were seeking fire; well, here it was in the amber blaze of his eyes and in the heated touch of their hands and mouths. She had to move to strip off her pants. “We must be quiet,” she whispered.

  Finn chuckled—a low seductive sound. It did nothing to reassure her and added a frisson of panic that heightened every sense to fever pitch. Kneeling over him, she took him inside, both of them groaning with relief—sounds which quickly turned to stifled moans of pleasure as they moved together and built towards a desperate climax.

  The lightning became more intense, flooding the landscape with flashes of electric-blue, outlining the rocks and the few trees that clung to the higher slopes with steely light. Trembling, they clutched each other and realised just how insignificant they were in the Gods’ grand design.

  Small we may be, Naima thought, but our hopes and dreams would fill the sky from horizon to horizon. When she looked at Finn, he filled her whole world.

  "You let me go, knowing I might never return,” Finn murmured into her hair.

  "I let you go, believing you would. I told the Goddess I'd fight for you, and I will. If she wants to crow over man's cowardice, she's picked the wrong group of people to test.” Resting her chin on Finn's shoulder, she inhaled the scent of his sweat-slicked skin, the mustiness of his worn-out shirt.

  "I suppose we should go back down,” she said.

  "Not yet. Naima, I want to ask you something. Could you bear to let me go again?"

  Naima sat back on her heels, stunned by the request. She groped for her pants and underwear. Rose to her feet. Her reply would have profound repercussions, both in this world and the world where Gods and the mighty Goddess played games with the lives of men.

  Finn made no attempt to follow her. Letting him go, knowing she would be only a few hours behind him hadn't been a test at all. True, his father had been thrown into the mix, but only as a distraction. He'd surely never wanted to kill Finn.

  Behind her, she heard the wheeze of Finn's scarred lungs and the rustling of his clothing as he put himself back together. He spoke with the weary resignation of a man who had ceased to care about the future, as long as it signalled the end of his torture.

  "She wants to know if a Lupine is capable of inspiring the kind of love that would move this mountain and deposit it in the sea."

  "I'd do anything for you,” Naima replied, her voice gritty and low. She turned to face Finn, eyes blazing, her golden hair alight with the power of the storm. “I defy Her to test me right now. Open up your circle of fire,” she cried to the sky. “I'm just a mere mortal, disposable. How could you think of sacrificing the last of your precious Lupines? Let me do if for him."

  "Naima, watch out!
"

  The impact of Finn's body hitting hers floored them both. She lay, panting, underneath him, thinking she'd been smitten by the Goddess herself. Her ears rang with the sound of bells tolling and jangling in her head. When she looked up, the world had become a fiery, orange and silver glow, every bush, rock and tree engulfed by flames, burning white-hot. Finn's arm closed over her eyes.

  "Don't look. You won't survive it."

  "Let me go.” She kicked out at him when he grabbed her wrists and pinned her down. “I'm not scared. Let me show Her."

  "I think you already have. Naima, please."

  Though not a match for Finn's other-worldly strength, at that moment she felt invincible. Freed from the shackles of fear, she fought him with everything she had.

  "Listen to me, Naima.” Finn's voice filtered through her anger. “This is it. Only I can do this, do you hear me? Your father and Brynn are about to come charging up the track. Go down and stop them. You've proved yourself. Now let me. It's our only hope of being together."

  "I can't leave you.” Her voice broke on a sob. Instead of fighting him, she tightened her hold. “It's too much to ask. I'd rather jump into the Fire with you."

  "You need to stand up and without looking back, walk down that track and away from me. I know you're brave enough. Trust that the Goddess will reward you for your faith."

  Naima coughed and struggled to fill her lungs with the thin scorched air. “She asks too much."

  "She asks for everything. Will you give it? The Goddess will always have first call on me. Accept that and you will have won a great victory."

  Could she? Shading her eyes from the inferno raging around them, she risked a peek at Finn. His eyes glowed brighter than she'd ever seen, his gaze hotter than the fire surrounding them. She felt terribly mortal and very humbled. Holding on to him was like trying to command the fire itself.

  "I've known you,” she said. “And I'm honoured the Goddess found me worthy of the privilege. But how will I ever be ready to let you go?"

  The sound of the fire's roaring greed receded. They lay together, neither restraining nor letting go, in perfect balance amidst the chaos.

  "Part of my test is to watch you walk away.” Finn pulled her upright and pressed a hard, branding kiss to her mouth. “Remember that in every ending there's a new beginning. You've given me the courage to do this. Go now. Cover your eyes and don't look back."

  Backlit by the inferno, hair lifting with the rising heat, he looked like a dark angel fallen from the sky. He crossed the clearing with sure strides and faced the full force of the fire. Without missing a beat, he stretched out his arms and let it take him.

  Naima turned away, eyes blinded by the heat, the sight of Finn offering himself to the flames forever etched into her memory. While all around, the mountains echoed with the triumphant howl of his cousins singing out in homage and pride for his sacrifice. She wanted to join them in shouting Finn's praises, but the flames forced her back.

  Knowing him had truly been a blessing. Stumbling down the track, she fell, coughing and sobbing, into her father's arms.

  "What's happening,” Ancel asked. “Are you hurt?"

  "No, not hurt,” she gasped.

  "Stay here. Brynn and I will go up."

  "Don't,” she said grabbing a handful of his jacket. “Finn needs to be alone. We can't help him."

  "What are you saying? The fire, let me go."

  "Ancel.” Brynn touched his arm, his gaze devoid of challenge. “You, of all people, should understand what it means to fight alone. It doesn't matter how many people we call to our aid. Ultimately, we always fight alone."

  "I trust him, Father. Let Finn complete his task. He will help Carine, if it's within his power."

  Ancel hesitated and then turned to face the distant glow of the Great Fire. “I salute your bravery,” he said and touched a fist to his heart in the time-honoured Eagle tradition. “May you prevail, Finn, and come back to us. Now, let's go before the flames take us all."

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  Chapter 19

  The fire burned without consuming. Although the pain of the intense heat seared his skin, instead of a pile of ash, Finn remained flesh and blood beneath the mantle of dancing flames flashing orange and red behind his closed lids. He didn't dare bring his wolf forward before convincing himself he wouldn't burn to a crisp. If he saw the flames, his faith would waver enough for the Fire to take him.

  Stand firm. He conjured a picture in his mind of an icy torrent tumbling from the mountain peaks and imagined the frigid water cooling him. In the show-grounds, men walked through fire using faith alone and suffered no burns. If they could do it, then so could he. This was no different. A little hotter, perhaps.

  He heard himself laughing. Hotter than the fires of Hell and the Pit of Eternal Torment all rolled into one. If only evil men knew what awaited them on the other side, they'd spend their lives beating their breasts and wearing hair shirts in atonement.

  Release me, his wolf urged. Only I can find the Stones.

  The distraction intensified the pain as he let go his control. Stay down he warned his wolf. If I lose concentration, we'll both burn.

  You can't hold it forever. Release me now.

  If I do, you won't come back. The certainty hit Finn as he struggled to control the Fire. The wolf and the man had always been two facets of the same coin. Now, for the first time, it felt like a separate entity able to exist outside of the man. It wanted its freedom. Finn wasn't sure, though, that the man could exist outside of the wolf.

  We don't have much time. Make a choice, Finn. Hold back the Fire, while I take the Stones. I promise Carine will have them.

  The wolf prowled and circled restlessly inside of him, using Finn's doubts and fears to build a battering ram that pushed at every crack in his defences.

  You're part of me, Finn told the beast. I can't survive without you.

  The Fire will burn you eventually, no matter how much you resist it. At least this way, one of us will live on. Let me out.

  The beast inside of him, which he'd resented for so long, was leaving him. The man should be glad to lose the burden he'd carried so unwillingly, yet his heart cried with a terrible grief.

  I need you, Finn said. I'm a Lupine. I don't know how to be anything else. I don't want to be anything else.

  You would not wish to be a mere mortal? The intense heat moderated, slightly, and in the lull, Finn heard the voice of the Goddess replacing that of the wolf. The beast backed away, puzzled and a little overwhelmed by Finn's acceptance.

  I am what I am. Naima loves me as I am. I ask for no more.

  Truly?

  Yes, truly. Don't let it leave me. I can't exist without it.

  Slowly, the pain ebbed away to be replaced by a gentle warmth filling every part of him. Images from the Collective Memory flashed into his mind. His ancestors and all their trials and triumphs. Their rise to become the Goddess's right hand. Their terrible fall from grace. The future of the whole race rested on his shoulders.

  I'm pleased with you, beloved. You have more than proved yourself worthy of my trust. I charge you, Finn, with the task of bringing back the Lupines. Your race will once again walk this earth with your heads held high and with my protection.

  Finn fell, exhausted, to his knees, small sparks flickering over his skin. The flames engulfing the landscape burned low, their intense light fading as one by one they started to go out.

  Let the wolf release the Stones before the flames die.

  Can I trust him to come back?

  Only you have the answer, beloved.

  The beast inched forward and, through its eyes, Finn glimpsed a circle of dying flame in the clearing. “Zenar palatin dineara,” he intoned, hesitating for only a heartbeat before changing.

  The wolf leaped into its core and, to his relief, took the man with it.

  * * * *

  She would remember him with pride, not sadness. Easier said than done, but all the
tears in the world wouldn't bring him back.

  Sol's slender body wriggled in beside her and Naima moved up to make room for him. Ancel had decreed the area safe enough now the fire had died down. They would return to the Settlement in the morning.

  "Are you crying for Finn?” Sol asked.

  "I'm not crying,” she said shaking her head. “Just sad. I loved him very much. And now he's gone."

  "Only for a while. He's just gone to find the Stones for Mother. He'll be back, you'll see."

  "It's pretty normal to cry and be sad when those you love have gone away."

  "He's only gone for a short time. I'm guarding you for him—until he comes back. Did he tell you I've started a new order called the Guardians of the Lupines? And their wives,” he added. “And when you have babies, I'll guard them too."

  Naima lifted a hand to ruffle Sol's hair, but suddenly he looked too old and serious for so childish an endearment. She did it anyway, mussing his long golden locks, causing him to grab her hands in protest at the affront to his dignity. “Don't grow up too fast,” she told him. “Here, a Guardian should have a weapon befitting his status, do you not think?"

  Sol flicked back his hair and gazed with wide-eyed wonder at the jewelled dagger resting in her outstretched palm.

  "You really mean me to have it? I thought Father gave it to you."

  "Absolutely, I do. Father won't mind. It's a thank you for helping Finn.” No, she wouldn't cry.

  "He will come back. And he'll have Mother's magic stones. Did you see him jump into the fire? I wish I'd been there."

  "You'd better have my belt too. Here.” The belt bearing the knife-sheath was too large for him so she knotted it instead of buckling it for him. It would fit him soon enough. “Yes. Yes, I did. Sol, you mustn't mind if I cry for Finn. I can't be brave all the time."

  Sol turned the knife over in his hands, wrapped his fingers around the ornate hilt. “Do you think it hurt him?"

  "The Fire? No, I don't think it did. Don't worry, he was brave."

  Sliding an arm around Sol's back, Naima pulled him close. He'd handled his ordeal well, but for all his bravado, he was still only a child.